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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 524/751
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"
Burn
them
,
"
someone
whispered
.
One
of
the
rangers
;
Jon
could
not
have
said
who
.
"
Yes
,
burn
them
,
"
a
second
voice
urged
.
The
Old
Bear
gave
a
stubborn
shake
of
his
head
.
"
Not
yet
.
I
want
Maester
Aemon
to
have
a
look
at
them
.
We
'll
bring
them
back
to
the
Wall
.
"
Some
commands
are
more
easily
given
than
obeyed
.
They
wrapped
the
dead
men
in
cloaks
,
but
when
Hake
and
Dywen
tried
to
tie
one
onto
a
horse
,
the
animal
went
mad
,
screaming
and
rearing
,
lashing
out
with
its
hooves
,
even
biting
at
Ketter
when
he
ran
to
help
.
The
rangers
had
no
better
luck
with
the
other
garrons
;
not
even
the
most
placid
wanted
any
part
of
these
burdens
.
In
the
end
they
were
forced
to
hack
off
branches
and
fashion
crude
slings
to
carry
the
corpses
back
on
foot
.
It
was
well
past
midday
by
the
time
they
started
back
.
"
I
will
have
these
woods
searched
,
"
Mormont
commanded
Ser
Jaremy
as
they
set
out
.
"
Every
tree
,
every
rock
,
every
bush
,
and
every
foot
of
muddy
ground
within
ten
leagues
of
here
.
Use
all
the
men
you
have
,
and
if
you
do
not
have
enough
,
borrow
hunters
and
foresters
from
the
stewards
.
If
Ben
and
the
others
are
out
here
,
dead
or
alive
,
I
will
have
them
found
.
And
if
there
is
anyone
else
in
these
woods
,
I
will
know
of
it
.
You
are
to
track
them
and
take
them
,
alive
if
possible
.
Is
that
understood
?
"
"
It
is
,
my
lord
,
"
Ser
Jaremy
said
.
"
It
will
be
done
.
"
After
that
,
Mormont
rode
in
silence
,
brooding
.
Jon
followed
close
behind
him
;
as
the
Lord
Commander
's
steward
,
that
was
his
place
.
The
day
was
grey
,
damp
,
overcast
,
the
sort
of
day
that
made
you
wish
for
rain
.
No
wind
stirred
the
wood
;
the
air
hung
humid
and
heavy
,
and
Jon
's
clothes
clung
to
his
skin
.
It
was
warm
.
Too
warm
.
The
Wall
was
weeping
copiously
,
had
been
weeping
for
days
,
and
sometimes
Jon
even
imagined
it
was
shrinking
.
The
old
men
called
this
weather
spirit
summer
,
and
said
it
meant
the
season
was
giving
up
its
ghosts
at
last
.
After
this
the
cold
would
come
,
they
warned
,
and
a
long
summer
always
meant
a
long
winter
.
This
summer
had
lasted
ten
years
.
Jon
had
been
a
babe
in
arms
when
it
began
.
Ghost
ran
with
them
for
a
time
and
then
vanished
among
the
trees
.
Without
the
direwolf
,
Jon
felt
almost
naked
.
He
found
himself
glancing
at
every
shadow
with
unease
.
Unbidden
,
he
thought
back
on
the
tales
that
Old
Nan
used
to
tell
them
,
when
he
was
a
boy
at
Winterfell
.
He
could
almost
hear
her
voice
again
,
and
the
click-click-click
of
her
needles
.
In
that
darkness
,
the
Others
came
riding
,
she
used
to
say
,
dropping
her
voice
lower
and
lower
.
Cold
and
dead
they
were
,
and
they
hated
iron
and
fire
and
the
touch
of
the
sun
,
and
every
living
creature
with
hot
blood
in
its
veins
.
Holdfasts
and
cities
and
kingdoms
of
men
all
fell
before
them
,
as
they
moved
south
on
pale
dead
horses
,
leading
hosts
of
the
slain
.
They
fed
their
dead
servants
on
the
flesh
of
human
children
...
When
he
caught
his
first
glimpse
of
the
Wall
looming
above
the
tops
of
an
ancient
gnarled
oak
,
Jon
was
vastly
relieved
.
Mormont
reined
up
suddenly
and
turned
in
his
saddle
.
"
Tarly
,
"
he
barked
,
"
come
here
.
"
Jon
saw
the
start
of
fright
on
Sam
's
face
as
he
lumbered
up
on
his
mare
;
doubtless
he
thought
he
was
in
trouble
.
"
You
're
fat
but
you
're
not
stupid
,
boy
,
"
the
Old
Bear
said
gruffly
.
"
You
did
well
back
there
.
And
you
,
Snow
.
"
